tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91822429327770239652024-03-04T23:01:03.302-08:00Starting Over from Square ZeroB. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.comBlogger639125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-37188502059563224702016-07-22T08:54:00.002-07:002016-07-22T08:54:29.779-07:00The delay continues...While I had originally planned to be up and running again, I regret to say that the delay to restart the series will continue for a little while longer. I have started a new job, and am still adjusting to the schedule. That means my brain is typically fried when I want to sit down and write.<br />
<br />
Square Zero is not dead, but it is on hiatus for a while longer, because I don't want to just push out filler chapters for the series. I want to go back in with a solid game plan on where things are going to go. I also want to go in with an idea of where these series are going to eventually end. This is especially true of Eye See You. The series is ramping up for its big finish, and I want to make sure that it is worthwhile. I don't want a series that I have been writing for so long to finish on a whimper.<br />
<br />
So, keep checking back for more news. Hopefully I will start getting stuff up in the coming weeks.B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-52708391356717935762016-07-02T06:00:00.000-07:002016-07-02T06:00:44.598-07:00Slime pt. 7<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“You know the way down to the
bunker?” Heather glanced at Marco. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Marco nodded.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Good, she said. Then you’ll be
my guide.” She smiled, and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Are there any other
guys down there? Anyone you should alert?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He replied. “Yeah, next time we
get to a communications hub I’ll try and get a hold of them.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was Heather’s turn to nod.
Then she motioned for Marco to lead the way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They moved quickly towards the
edge of the recreational district. The path wasn’t clear, though. Several more
sections of the compound had started to crumble, and there were sinkholes
everywhere. It felt like the whole place was coming down around them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Shit,” said Marco. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“What?” Heather replied. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He glanced around, looking at
the dome above them, and the nearest walls. “We need to move faster. I just
thought of something.” </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">He picked up his pace, and
Heather tried to keep up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Mind sharing it with me?” She
was starting to get short on breath. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“If the instability effects the
dome we could have a breach, and then this whole area could depressurize. If
that happens we’ll be sucked out into space” He broke into a quick jog. “Or we’ll
just explode because of the sudden shift in pressure.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heather didn’t respond. Neither
option sounded all that pleasurable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They found a clear stretch of
path that was a straight shot to one of the doors that could be sealed behind them. Past there and they
would be into the operational district. All they needed to do was get through
that doorway, seal it up, and make their way down to the central control room.
They moved as fast as possible, their footfalls sounding hollow on the ground
underneath their feet. Heather could hear the crack and creak as more of the
recreational district fell away, and the fear alone gave her a second wind. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Just a little further,” Marco
muttered. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then he froze, and Heather
nearly ran into him. She was about to complain, but shut her mouth when she
looked towards the door. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Standing in the doorway were
two figures. Both of them were stock still, and just watching. Well, one was
watching. The other one couldn’t physically be watching them. He lacked a head,
although something bright and green glowed from the ragged stump of his neck. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heather’s hand shot to her
mouth, muffling the scream that came bursting up. It was just enough noise for
the two figures to lock onto them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Fuck.” Marco whispered. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“I’m sorry,” Heather said. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was when the two figures
starting running towards them. </span><span style="font-family: Garamond, serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-48220752065156109502016-07-01T06:00:00.000-07:002016-07-01T06:00:00.168-07:00Series Updates and The New ScheduleFirst, there will be no new Tentacle University 2 chapter today. There will, however, be a new episode of Slime tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Okay, so after thinking this over I have settled on a new schedule. There are going to be a couple of big changes, and a few small ones.<br />
<br />
The first big change is that Tentacle University 2 is being put on hiatus. The series is going alright, but I need to do some serious plotting and planning to make sure it doesn't turn into a complete disaster. So when the blog resumes in mid-July, Tentacle University 2 will not be returning with it.<br />
<br />
With Eye See You's new arc, Mutation, the series will be moving to one day a week, with longer posts to make up for the reduced schedule. Those posts will be posted on Tuesdays. <br />
<br />
New Pom Pom Angel will continue to post on Mondays, and will be starting a new arc when it returns with New Pom Pom Angel: Heart's Dance.<br />
<br />
There will be no changes to Rituals, and the series will continue to post in its regular slot.<br />
<br />
Slime will be moving to Thursday when the new schedule kicks in. When Slime ends Tentacle University 2 will resume in the Thursday slot. <br />
<br />
So, the new schedule is as follows:<br />
<br />
Mon-New Pom Pom Angel<br />
Tues-Eye See You<br />
Wed- Rituals<br />
Thurs-Slime/Tentacle University 2 (replacing Slime when the mini-series ends)<br />
<br />
Until July 11th everyone!<br />
<br />
<br />B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-90432321816432105972016-06-30T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-30T06:00:19.526-07:00Eye See You: Mother's Day pt. 12 *End Arc* <div class="Normal1">
I had somehow managed to get a call out to my son. The
landline in the kitchen still worked, and I was able to dial and talk without
any part of it trying to merge with me. He had picked up on the third ring. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“Mom, where are you!” He sounded panicked. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“Bea and Richard’s,” I choked out. “They’re both… they both…” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I could barely speak. The sobs threatened to overtake me again
every time I opened my mouth. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“Mom?” His voice was calmer now, but no less concerned. “Mom,
what happened? Why are you at Aunt Bea’s house?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“David, I just need you to pick me up. Okay? I’ll be sitting
outside. I just need… please come and get me. Okay?” I spoke quickly, knowing
that if I took too long, I would break down on the phone. I couldn’t cry again.
I didn’t have the energy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
He promised to be right there. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I left the kitchen and made my way to the front porch. Slowly
I lowered myself onto the cement steps. I sat there, my mind feeling empty and
my body feeling weak. Only one thought kept repeating in my head, over and over
again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
This is just the beginning. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Was I really ready to fight this fight? Could I? I had no
idea. All I knew was that I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t let what happened to
Bea and Richard happen to me, or to my son. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
I had to fight. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
To Be Continued in... </div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Eye See You: Mutation</div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-6322243264578007892016-06-29T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-29T06:00:11.455-07:00Rituals pt. 26<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The flame didn’t dissipate.
Instead, it spread, catching onto the wooden beams, and the wooden ceiling
above us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“This isn’t good.” I glanced
around. The other vipers were either dead, or mostly dead. It was just me, and
the burning building. “What do I do now?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Run,” was all Juktha said. Her
voice boomed through my skull, and I instantly took off. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The basement was growing hot around
me, and the fire was spreading quickly. I hoped the others hand made their way
outside, because the last thing I needed was for one of them to come crashing
through the already badly damaged floor. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I made it to the stairs, taking
them two at a time, the fire lapping at my heels as I moved. Then I was upstairs.
I turned, heading towards the front door, but found that the floor between the
basement door and the front door was now engulfed in flames. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Shit, I thought to myself. What
now? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“The window!” Juktha’s voice rang
in my ears again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I turned my head, and without
thinking, I dove just as the rolling ball of green flame burst through the
basement door and engulfed the entire room I had just been standing in. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The glass burst around me, and I
could feel the heat of the explosion behind me. Then I was crashing into the
ground, tucking into a roll, and praying that I didn’t break my neck. When I
stopped rolling, and the world stopped spinning, I opened my eyes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Missy, Alana and Doug were looking
down at me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
They were smiling. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-73223070123995884732016-06-28T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-28T06:00:17.091-07:00Eye See You: Mother's Day pt. 11<div class="Normal1">
I reached down, pulling the wire from my ankle, and with a
fierce tug, yanked it from Richard’s body. It writhed and wriggled in my palm,
the electricity slowly fading from it now that it was separated from its power
source. I gripped harder, and in seconds it went limp. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I grabbed the tall reading lamp next to the bed and raised it
over my head. Sometime in my brain had snapped, and I was running on complete
fear. I raised the base of the lamp over my head, the metal of the lamp
glinting in the dim light that came in through the drawn windows, and I swung. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
The base of the lamp collided with Richard’s grotesque,
rotting skull. The weight of the blow instantly collapsed his face, sending a
cloud of rotted bone dust into the air. I swung again, the lamp slamming into
his open chest cavity, crushing whatever electronics had invaded his body. I
swung again and again, my mind stuck in a violent loop. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
That thing, that Virus, had stolen so much from me, and I was
not going to sit back and let it take my life, too. It had to pay. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
When my energy finally gave out, I dropped the lamp to the
floor. It hit the hard wood with a clatter. I stood over the bed, panting. My
eyes took in the damage I had done. Richard looked barely human. His already
rotten body had been reduced to piles of thin, leather skin, blackened blood
and bone dust. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
I fell to my knees and I began to cry. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-14646284917058136272016-06-27T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-27T06:00:19.553-07:00New Pom Pom Angel: Forbidden Kiss pt. 13<div class="MsoNormal">
Dinner went very well, and after we decided to take a walk
around the neighborhood. He held my hand, and occasionally our shoulders would
brush together. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Normally being affectionate with another man in public made
me uneasy. There were always glances, or comments. Sometimes people would
threaten me. Even in a time where more and more people were accepting of same
sex couples, that fear had to always be present. There was that need to always
be aware of your surroundings, and the people nearby. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dante didn’t care. He understood evil, but in an odd way, he
didn’t seem to understand hate. He didn’t care that people were staring at us.
He just wanted to hold my hand, and that was all that mattered. It probably
helped that he had demonic powers, and that any drunken bro who decided to
start shit didn’t stand a chance against him. That wasn’t all it was, though. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He was just too happy to care. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually we made our way to a small park two blocks away
from our building. We walked the cracked cement path through the overgrown
trees and found a bench across from a small koi pond. Still holding my hand, he
gently guided me to sit next to him. Once I was seated he kissed my cheek and
gently rested his head on my shoulder. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are you happy?” he asked. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do I make you happy?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It didn’t take me long to admit that he did. He made me very
happy. He made me happier than I had been in years. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes,” was my answer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Good.” He turned his head and kissed my shoulder. “You make
me happy, too.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that was all it took for me to admit that I had
completely and totally fallen in love with the demon sitting next to me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t know what how the relationship would develop. It
could be amazing, or it could be hell on earth, but that was fine. At that
moment I realized that I was willing to take the risk, because Dante was worth
it. Dante, with all his flaws and misunderstandings of human tradition, was the
perfect man for me, and I would be a complete idiot to pass it up. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turned my head towards him, and we kissed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was madly and truly in love, and that was all I needed at
that moment. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-8263448226204190272016-06-25T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-25T06:00:04.453-07:00Slime pt. 6<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“What the hell was that?” Lana
froze, listening. The noise was gone, but she could have sworn it sounded like
a scream. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“I didn’t hear anything.”
Rochelle was busy at one of the computer terminals that lined the walls of the
compound’s central command station. “You okay?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Fine.” Lana sighed. “Guess the
quiet of this place is just starting to get to me. Never had cabin fever
before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">The central command was a
medium sized room made smaller by the sheer amount of equipment stuffed into
it. It didn’t help that it was tucked in the lower level, not far from the
mining crew bunkers, and that meant there were no windows. The place felt like
a metal closet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“So,” Rochelle glanced back at
the computer screen, “the damage to the planet is pretty extensive. Not
complete, mind you. It looks like almost a third of the planet structure has
been hollowed out, but that amount is growing. The planet should be at half
mass by tomorrow afternoon if the decay rate stays steady.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Half mass?” Lana shook her
head. “What the hell is causing it? And where the hell is it all going? That
much planet does not suddenly just vanish without a trace.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Well, I can account for at
least half of what is already missing. Our mining operations have done
significant damage to the planet’s structure, and the operations have removed a
large amount of materials from the planet’s core. As for the rest of it… I have
no clue.” Rochelle continued to tap away at her keyboard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“As for the structural integrity
of the compound?” She leaned forward. “How bad is it?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Rochelle sighed. “Not great.
The entire structure isn’t over the… breakdown? I don’t really know how to
describe it. Anyways, the entire structure isn’t at risk, but a portion of it
is. Namely the village area. The stores and recreational portions of the
compound are at high risk of collapse.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Lana nodded and stood up,
walking towards one of the in station communicators. She tapped a few keys, and
the screen blinked to fuzzy life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Heather?” She spoke into the
intercom, and waited for a response. “Heather, can you hear me? God I hope you
have your communicator on you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“I hear you.” Heather’s voice
crackled back. “Not well, but I can hear you. I have one of the skeleton crew
here, Marco. Captain, something happened. The bar… well, it’s gone.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Lana responded, “I’m not really
surprised. Listen, you need to clear out of the village. It isn’t safe. You and
Marco should make your way towards the bunker and the central command. I’ll
explain more when you get here.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Got it,” Heather answered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“See you in a few. If you run
into any problems just contact me through the command number. Rochelle and I
will be here.” Lana disconnected from the communicator. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">She glanced around the room, at
all the outdated technology that surrounded her. TV and movies had lied to
people for years. There were no glass touch pads or holographic screens. While
they did exist, no company, and no government for that matter, was going to
spend money on them. Not unless the compound or ship could prove to be
profitable. No, places like Tetra-18 were gifted with the outdated crap that no
one else wanted, but everyone knew how to use. It meant less time training
people, and lower overhead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“This is odd.” Rochelle’s voice
brought Lana back into the present. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“What?” She walked over to the
computer terminal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“That unaccounted mass? Well, I
think I found it. It didn’t so much vanish as it condensed and relocated.”
Rochelle pointed to the terminal. “It’s… well, it’s moving directly under us.
It looks it’s building up.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">As if in response the room
suddenly gave a sudden jerk. Both Lana and Rochelle had to brace themselves
from the shock wave, but they did manage to stay on their feet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Rochelle, I need you to
contact the pickup shuttle. I don’t know how they can manage it, but they need
to get here faster.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“On it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Lana headed back to her desk
and opened a connection to Rochelle’s computer. Something in the data she had
pulled up, and in the images she had managed to get together bothered her. It
was the way the mass was moving. It seemed deliberate. It seemed… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Alive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-31040824804495242732016-06-24T09:17:00.000-07:002016-06-24T09:21:30.028-07:00A much needed break.So, this is a post I never thought I would have to write, but I am finding it impossible to avoid.<br />
<br />
Basically, I need a mental break. Square Zero is very fun to write, and I enjoy all the worlds and stories that I've created, but it also takes a lot for me to keep up with all of the different series. I have recently made a big move in my real life, and am job hunting, which is taking up most of my mental energy.<br />
<br />
So, I am going to be taking a short break from Square Zero, and when I come back there are going to be some changes to the blog. Most importantly, I am going to be cutting down on the number of series that I'm writing, as well as the days that I will be posting, while also adjusting the schedule with the remaining series that I have currently running. The time will also allow me to plot out some of my trickier series, and iron out some of the issues I've been facing with the story progressions. I would prefer to get those things figured out now instead of writing myself into a corner, as I have with series in the past.<br />
<br />
So, once I have the schedule figured out, I will post it on the blog. There will be some new posts next week, and then the new schedule will begin on July 11th, with the beginning of the third arc for New Pom Pom Angel.<br />
<br />
I apologize for the break in posting, but I need the time to make the adjustments to keep Square Zero running smoothly. Thank you all for your patience and understanding. <br />
<br />
<br />B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-42076464149978154842016-06-24T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-24T06:00:02.442-07:00Tentacle University 2: The Sorority pt. 19<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kent sat in his room, his eyes
locked on his phone. He hadn’t heard back from his guys, and that made him
nervous. The fact that he had heard police sirens early made it worse.
Something had gone sideways. He could just feel it. This was all about to blow
up in his face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Why had he trusted those three to do
his dirty work for him? They were morons who were two steps below apes. All
they knew how to do was hit shit. Well, and fuck. They knew had to fuck real
well, and right now they were fucking him well and good, and Kent wasn’t
enjoying it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The phone rang, and Petra’s number
popped up. He answered on the second ring. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“What happened?” Kent could hear the
panic in his voice, and it made him sick. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I couldn’t tell you. Something
weird blew up, and Morris is dead.” Petra’s speech was rapid fire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“One of those fuckers killed him?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I doubt it. His body was all messed
up. Looked like he had been mummified.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mummified? What the fuck was going
on? Was Petra screwing with him? It wasn’t funny. He was freaked out enough,
and he didn’t need some no brain thug cracking jokes at his expense. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Don’t you bullshit me…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I’m telling you the truth! I don’t
know how it happened, but Morris was turned to fucking tanned leather.” Petra
paused. “Listen, Voigt and I are coming over, and…” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kent cut him off. “No, you listen.
You two need to stay far away from this house for a good, long while. I’ll meet
the two of you tomorrow. Somewhere public. Just keep your heads down and your
fucking mouths shut.” He bit his lip. “And watch Voigt. He’s still a good old
boy, believes in right and wrong and all that shit. Make sure he doesn’t talk.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Do you want me to… you know?” Petra
lowered his voice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“No!” Kent nearly shouted. “Keep him
alive, but calm. Got it?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Got it.” Petra hung up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“You little shit.” Luther Stanton’s
voice made Kent spin around. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Daddy!” Kent blurted out his common
greeting without thinking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Luther didn’t look like he was in
the mood to play “Daddy” tonight though. His face was bright red with rage, and
his jaw was clenched. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“What did you do?” Luther advanced
on him. “What the fuck did you do?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I… I tried to take care of it!”
Kent took a step back, and felt the back of his legs collide with the edge of
his bed. He lost his balance, and fell back. “You told me to take care of it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“And you fucked it up, just like a
knew you would.” He loomed over Kent, fire burning in his eyes. “And you fucked
up my backup plan.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kent was about to say something, to
beg for forgiveness. Luther didn’t give him the chance. His hand came down
quickly, cracking across Kent’s face, whipping his head to the side. The pain
was intense, but familiar. Luther had hit Kent before plenty of times, and just
as hard. Kent knew how to calm him down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Carefully, Kent rolled onto his
belly, then pulled his knees towards his chest, lifting his ass in the air. He
could hear Luther suck in breath. Slowly he began to pull his punts down,
exposing his round, firm butt cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Luther was an angry man, but he
thought with his dick first. It didn’t take much to get him off track. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Please, Daddy,” Kent whimpered. “Please
punish me for what I did.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kent could hear Luther’s belt buckle
clacking, followed by the sound of his pants hitting the floor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kent had won, just like he always
did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As Luther road him, Kent’s mind
drifted. He thought of how exactly he was going to fix things. Apparently he
had fucked things up royally, and that could be bad for him. As mean as Luther
could be, life on the streets, or worse, prison, could be even worse. He needed
to fix this. Brute force wasn’t the answer. That was absolutely clear. No, he
needed to take a different approach, and he needed to do it quickly. First, he
had to deal with Petra and Voigt. Petra could keep his mouth shut, but Voigt…
Voigt was the wild card. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He felt Luther grab his hair and
yank his head back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Keep your head in the game, boy.”
His voice was a harsh rasp. “Don’t you like it when Daddy punishes you?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Yes, Daddy.” He purred out the
words, and felt his stomach lurch as he did so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Luther made him sick, but he also
made him comfortable. Eugene wasn’t much better, and was a whole lot harder to
control. Even with all the shit he had to put up with, his life in Luther’s
house, as Luther’s “son” was one hundred times better than his life working the
streets. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Eugene… now Eugene was someone that
Kent could spare. He, like Voigt, was a wild card. Sure, he was tied up with
the pictures and everything, but none of the evidence led back to him. Not
clearly. A plan started to form in Kent’s mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As Luther pumped away, and Kent
plotted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-1390285631917097812016-06-23T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-23T06:00:26.837-07:00Eye See You: Mother's Day pt. 10 <div class="Normal1">
I glanced towards Richard. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
His body was limp. Did I see his hand twitch? No, that was
just my mind playing tricks on me. He was dead. There wasn’t enough left of him
to do much of anything if that Virus thing took over. He was dead and… <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I saw it again. His hand twitched. Then there was the groan. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I stood up straight, my eyes locked on the corpse of my best
friend’s husband. He was watching me. His dead, shriveled eyes were locked on
me, and when I took a step towards the door they followed me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
No, not again. I couldn’t do this again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“You must,” he croaked. “You must go through instillation.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
His death smile grew. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
One of the wires that had been whipping around in the hollowed
out cavity of his torso had snaked its way out of his body and had made its way
across the floor. I hadn’t noticed it until it had wrapped itself around my
ankle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I felt the tip of the wire jab into my skin.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“No!” I screamed as loud as I could as I felt the wire start
to burrow its way into my flesh. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
<br />
I was not going to die like this! <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-85729989724634306152016-06-22T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-22T06:00:02.510-07:00Rituals pt. 25<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Whatever you’re going to do, do it
quickly.” Alana was helping the young woman to her feet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“You two, run.” I didn’t take my
eyes off of Venom. “Get upstairs, get to Doug. I’ll be right behind you.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Alana didn’t argue with me. She
looked at the young woman, gave her a once over. “Are you okay to run?” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The woman nodded. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“You got a name?” I asked the young
woman. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Missy.” Then the young woman ran
over, and kissed me on the cheek. “An angel’s kiss for luck.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Alana and Missy took off, running
towards the stairs, past the sea of howling vipers. It was just me, Venom and
the growing ball of energy building up in the palm of my hand. It was growing
brighter and brighter. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Release it by flexing your
fingers,” said Juktha. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I did as I was told, and just in
time. Venom was less than five feet away, and closing quickly. The burst of
energy expanded, turning from a ball into a wall of pure light. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“No!” Venom screamed. “I can’t die
this easily! I am to powerful. I am…” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
His body exploded into a ball of
twisting, writhing green flame. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-37987939053076333422016-06-21T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-21T06:00:06.395-07:00Eye See You: Mother's Day pt. 9<div class="Normal1">
The house seemed to buzz with electricity around me. I couldn’t
move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even bring myself to cry. I just sat there,
the shock washing over me. My best friend was dead. I had killed her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
No. Someone else had killed her. That thing that had taken my
husband had killed her. I had just disposed of the monster that had taken
control of her body. There was no Bea left in that thing I had killed. There was
only… what had my son called it? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
There was only Virus. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
I started to stand, but froze when I heard a groan coming from
the bed. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-32502885705844786882016-06-20T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-20T06:00:07.105-07:00New Pom Pom Angel: Forbidden Kiss pt. 12<div class="MsoNormal">
We sat in a table towards the back of
the restaurant, away from the families and large parties. Our spot was pretty
quiet, and the lights were set low. It was actually pretty romantic. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dante looked at me from across the
table, the light of the tabletop candle flickering in his eyes. At least, I
thought the candle was flickering in his eyes. It could also just be a little
bit of hellfire. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I chose to believe it was the candle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m kind of surprised you asked me out
again.” Dante smiled. “Our last date kind of went belly up, and everything
before that was a bit of a mess because… well, because I don’t really know how
humans date.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah, things have been a bit disastrous
so far, but…” I cleared my throat. “You try. You try really hard, and that
means something to me. Sure you don’t always get it, but the fact that you keep
trying to get it right is the most important thing.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dante’s smile grew. He reached out, and
took my hand in his. His grip was firm, but gentle. He nibbled on his lower
lip, and even in the low light I could see his cheeks turn a subtle shade of
pink. He looked so cute. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I thought that was how romance was
supposed to work.” Dante’s voice was soft. “I always thought that if you wanted
someone to know you liked them, you did your best to show them.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A lot of people forget that.” I gave
his hand a gentle squeeze. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, I won’t.” <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-86978373220327465672016-06-18T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-18T06:00:23.016-07:00Slime pt. 5<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Bucky made his way down the
steps, his boots clanging loudly on the metal. He was humming to himself, not a
care in the world. He was going to be getting home soon. He just knew it. He
was going to be getting out of space, and back on earth. He would be getting
back to his wife, and his daughter. He missed them more and more every day. He
didn’t think it would be that bad when he first signed up. He thought he would
at least be able to keep in contact with them, but he quickly learned that
contact was iffy at best, and most of the time the links back to earth were
down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">That was one of the things no
one tells you when you are signing up. They never tell you that you will spend
whole months cut off from your life on earth. They lure you in with the money
and the promise of moving up in the company, but they never tell you how lonely
it gets, or how dark. Bucky had thought he knew what true darkness was, but he
had been proven wrong. Tetra-18 barely had a sun, and when night hit the world
outside of the compound was pitch nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">It didn’t matter, though. None
of it mattered. Soon he would be off Tetra-18, and back home. He only had a
short term contract, and no option for the company to re-up him if he didn’t
sign off on it first. That was a deal that most of the other guys didn’t get.
He didn’t spread word around either. Didn’t need any of the roughnecks and
bruisers getting jealous. When they got jealous they started slamming things.
Usually someone else’s face. He knew they all thought he was a rube for
thinking that he was getting back to earth, but he knew he was. They couldn’t
drop him on another rock without his consent without breaking who knows how
many space laws. At least, according to his contract. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Lars, you start packing yet?”
Bucky reached the bottom of the stairs and called down the long, shadowy
hallway. The overhead lights, at least the ones that hadn’t already burned out,
were flickering. Must have been because of the quake earlier, or maybe the tremors
he had felt a little while ago. “Lars?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">He took a step forward, and
paused. He could hear something at the end of the hall. It was soft, though. It
was like a faint swoosh and splash of water. Heavier than water though. It wasn’t
so much a splash as it was a smack, of something thick hitting against the
heavy metal walls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">What the heck was Lars doing
down there? He didn’t really strike Bucky as the kind of guy who would start
washing the place down before they jetted. Especially since it would all just
be so much space rubble in a few days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Lars, you okay down there?”
Bucky took another step forward. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">The faint noise stopped
suddenly, and the only thing Bucky could hear was the whirring of the fans
bolted up in the air ducts. The door to the bunker slowly opened, and the light
from inside turned the hulking form of Lars into an almost terrifying silhouette.
The old man took another step forward, his motions seeming odd. They were too
fluid, and at the same time his limbs seemed to be moving too loosely. His
outline seemed to pulse, but just a bit, as if something under his skin was
still adjusting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Lars?” Bucky tried to call
out, but his voice was nothing more than a whimper. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">The old man charged, moving
faster than Bucky had ever seen him move. He didn’t even have a chance to turn
before the old man was right in front of him. Lars froze, his eyes locked onto
Bucky’s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“What… what the hell happened
to you?” Bucky stammered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Lars’s skin was blistered and
burnt, and his eyes were two glowing green, liquid orbs that seemed to dribble
past his lids and down his cheeks. He was gritting his teeth, and that same
green liquid oozed past his cracked and bloodied lips. His skin moved in gentle
waves, seeming to be completely unattached from the tissue underneath. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Bucky tried to scream, but Lars
just laughed. He old man grabbed him, slammed him against the wall, and then
started pulling him down the hall by the collar of his work uniform. Bucky
kicked and fought the best he could, but each movement made him wince with pain.
He was pretty sure his right arm was broken, and it felt like his knee had been
knocked out of place. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">He looked up at Lars just in
time to see the old man knock one of the air duct grates away from the ceiling,
exposing the whirling metal fan inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“No,” Bucky muttered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Lars looked at him, his smile
growing, the edges of his mouth ripping. He nodded at Bucky. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“No!” Bucky screamed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Then he was lifted off the
ground with such ease that Bucky’s scream was actually silenced by his
surprise. He just stared, wide eyed as his head moved swiftly towards the
spinning metal blades. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">-*- <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Lars pushed the boy hard, his
head connecting with the metal blades. Gore and brain and bone splattered the
hallway as what was once a head was suddenly reduced to a bloody, dripping
stump. The body gave a few hard jerks and then went still. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Lars dropped Bucky’s body to
the floor, propping him up against the wall.
Then, using both hands, he cleared away the stump that was Bucky’s neck,
and found the severed, and partially crushed trachea. Using two fingers he
forced it open again, and then positioned his mouth over the now clear opening.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Parting his lips, Lars let
loose a stream of glowing green slime, the liquid finding its target perfectly.
Not a drop was spared. In moments Lars had filled Bucky’s body up, relieving
some of the pressure in his own. Once he was done, he stepped back, watching. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">The slime didn’t need a host’s
brain to function. Lars’s brain had been liquefied almost the instant the slime
had entered him. No, the slime didn’t need a brain. It just needed a shell, and
Bucky’s body was the perfect shell. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">It started with a hand twitch,
and then a small sputter of slime from the ragged stump of a neck. Then,
carefully, Bucky’s headless body stood up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">The two corpses didn’t need to
talk. They just knew what they had to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">They had to find the others in
the compound and deal with them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-86836792500615396952016-06-17T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-17T06:00:00.162-07:00Tentacle University 2: The Sorority pt. 18<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chad and Alice watched the others.
Even though they had both fed, they could sense the hunger growing again. They
needed to feed, but they needed to choose wisely. These hosts, especially Chad,
were still very much present and mindful. They had to pick someone who would
not upset the internal balance. If the hosts began to struggle, then the demon
could lose control. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The demon couldn’t have that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Both of their eyes locked onto
Willard. The guilt seemed to radiate off of him. The panic as well. He had done
something he wasn’t supposed to. He had done something really bad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“His energy is strong,” said Alice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“He almost glows with it,” said
Chad. “It’s dark, though. That one is twisted.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I like twisted,” said Alice. “Makes
them taste sweeter. Makes them more fun to play with.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Do you want him, or should I?”
asked Chad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Alice narrowed her eyes, and bit her
lip. She was examining him, studying him. “I think you would have better luck
with Willard. I’ll try and find those two who got away.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chad smiled, never taking his eyes
off of his decided prey. “You be careful. That foreign one was a mean son of a
bitch.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I’ll break him,” said Alice. Then
she turned and walked towards one of the ambulances that had lined up in front
of the Greek Row Commons. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As she left, a young man approached
him. The demon dug into Chad’s mind for a name. Lance. He was close to Chad,
and that made him off limits for now. He had a bandage on his cheek and one of
his arms was in a sling. A dark bruise blossomed on the skin between his neck
and shoulder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Chad’s emotions seeped through, and
the demon let them. He needed to seem natural. He needed to appear human. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lance approached carefully. “I can’t
believe you’re standing up.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“The beating looked much worse than
it actually was.” Chad gave a half smile, and approached Lance, closing the gap
between them. “You look like you could use a few days in bed, or in the
hospital.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Looks worse than it feels.” Lance
smiled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That smile made Chad’s stomach
tighten. The demon sighed internally. He never could understand human love and
affection. Sex he got. Sex felt good, and it fed him. Sex made sense to him.
Romance did not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“The cops done with you?” He glanced
over Lance’s shoulder at the still swarming police. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lance nodded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Then let’s get you home and in bed.”
Gently Chad put his arm around Lance’s shoulder, and led him away from the
madhouse that had formed in front of the Greek Life Center. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He would get to Willard later. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-66487457114486155432016-06-16T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-16T06:00:00.287-07:00Eye See You: Mother's Day pt. 8<div class="Normal1">
Bea’s body jerked hard, and her head snapped back. A pocket of
flesh above her right breast burst, releasing a stream of rotting, black blood
and yellow pus. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I kept my finger on the button, and pushed the Taser harder.
She jerked again, and this time her left eye exploded. She was shaking
violently, the electrical current from my Taser overloading her pace maker. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I could feel hot tears running down my cheeks. I was killing
my best friend. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
No, I reminded myself. Whatever was in the electronics, in the…
the Digital Void, had killed my best friend. I was just taking out one of its
drones. Bea was no longer in there, not the Bea that I knew. Not the Bea that I
had loved like a sister, not the Bea that had been the Maiden of Honor at my
wedding, not the Bea that… that… <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
I screamed, thrusting my hand forward again. The Taser smashed
into the pace maker and pushed it back, into her chest cavity. Her body, with
the sudden overload of electricity, lit up. Her flesh was glowing hot and
orange, and her remaining eye exploded. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
Then, the power ran out on my Taser, and Bea dropped to the
ground. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-80094015139591588282016-06-15T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-15T06:00:11.871-07:00Rituals pt. 24<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
The room snapped back into focus,
and I could feel Juktha inside of my brain, my body. Her power coursed through
me, and I felt almost invincible. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
When I glanced at the young woman
being held by Venom I could see that her face was sweaty and flush. She was
concentrating. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Did it work?” She whimpered. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I nodded. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Good.” She glanced at Venom. “Now
you and Juktha can kill this son of a bitch.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Venom hissed and threw the girl
towards us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Damn it,” he yelled, “the little
bitch was holding out on me. Well, ssssshe can die like the rest of you.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Then he started slithering towards
us. His body moved smoothly across the floor, weaving in and out between the
shafts of light. What was I supposed to do? I had the power, I just… well, I
didn’t know how to use it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Raise your hand,” Juktha said. Her
voice seemed like a pleasant echo in my brain. “Raise your hand and focus. I’ll
do the rest.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I did as she told me, and focused
my mind on Venom. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
That was when my palm began to
glow. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-88707234559524837692016-06-14T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-14T06:00:08.994-07:00Eye See You: Mother's Day pt. 7<div class="Normal1">
I pulled my Taser out of my bag, and held it in front of me.
Bea just laughed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“Sweetie, a little shock isn’t going to do much to me.” She
motioned towards the twisted hunk of technology in her chest. “Electricity is
part of me now.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Then, without warning, she let out a high pitched howl and
rushed at me, her arms outstretched. She moved quickly for her age, her aching
hip and bad knees no longer an issue. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
No longer an issue because she was no longer alive. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
I thrust the Taser forward, and the two metal prongs at the
top made contact with her pace maker. I held down the button, and prayed to God
it worked.<o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-767436371944575422016-06-13T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-13T06:00:24.662-07:00New Pom Pom Angel: Forbidden Kiss pt. 11<div class="MsoNormal">
We decided to walk to the restaurant.
The night was beautiful and clear, with a gentle breeze that kept everything
cool, but not cold. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dante walked next to me, his shoulder
close to mine, and occasionally he would lean close, brushing against me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I asked, “You ever have Chinese before?
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, there was this one guy, but he
might have been Korean. I honestly don’t remember; it was so long ago.” He
looked at me. “Oh, you mean food. Chinese food.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I nodded, my eyes again made wide by
the demon talk. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I actually haven’t. The world of human
food is kind of new to me. Usually I just dine on the flesh of the damned.” He shrugged.
I stopped walking. He turned, looking at me. “Oh come on, Nando, I’m joking. Of
course I’ve had Chinese food.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What about the whole ‘flesh of the
damned’ thing?” I asked. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He walked up to me, looping his arm in
with mine, and started me forward again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Only on holidays.” He rested his head
on my shoulder. “Although, I guess you could say I’m going the demon version of
vegetarian. No more souls, no more roasted flesh of the damned. Just normal,
human food.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think he expected that comment to
calm me down, but it didn’t. I made a mental note to keep that holy water with
me. Just in case Dante fell off the flesh eating band wagon, or we got in a
fight or something. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-42734322492694072042016-06-11T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-11T06:00:30.686-07:00Slime pt. 4<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Bucky, what the fuck is all
that noise?” Lars sat up in his cot, hacking violently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">He looked through the mostly
abandoned bunker. There were two bunk beds, both recessed into the wall, across
from him, and one above him. He couldn’t hear anyone moving up top, and the
ones across from him were empty. No one was there, but that still didn’t solve
the problem with all the noise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">He had been busting his ass for
the past six hours loading drill bits as big as a Bronco into a fucking space
locker, and he needed some damn rest. His body was aching something fierce, and
he could feel his hip tightening up. If he didn’t watch it, the damn thing
would like tighter than his wife’s snatch after he told her he was signing up. She
had said it was a mistake then, and he should have listened to her. Now she was
dead, and he was stuck on a rock floating in the middle of who the fuck knows
where. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Bucky, you better not be the
one making all that fucking noise!” Lars turned, groaning as he did so, and sat
up in his bunk. “If it is, I’ll crack your skull with that space rock you keep
hidden under your bed.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">No response. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Damnit, he thought to himself.
Maybe being out in the middle of nowhere was finally getting to him. He had
seen it happen to other guys. Guys who had been working a lot less time than he
had. It would start with a little paranoia, followed by a few hallucinations,
and then… bam, cabin fever, galactic edition would set in. Lars could remember
one kid who was so fucked up in his brain that he had sealed himself into one
of the airlocks. No one could get in there before the thing blasted open, and
that kid was turned into so much human soup splattered on the walls. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">That was the least grisly one
he had seen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Bucky, where you at boy?” Lars
started to get up. His hip protested, but he forced it. “I’m to old for this
shit.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">The ground gave a sudden lurch,
and Lars lost his footing, falling forward, reaching out just in time to keep
his face from smashing into the steel floor. He tried to push himself upright,
but his body wasn’t having it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Oh fuck.” He shook his. “Oh
fuck, fuck, fuck. It actually happened.” He half laughed, half whimpered. “I’ve
fucking fallen and I can’t get up.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">He gave up trying to lift
himself off the floor, and instead rolled onto his back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“Bucky!” He yelled as loud as
he could. “Bucky, I… I need your help!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">This time there was a response,
but it wasn’t from Bucky, or any person for that matter. No, the response was a
low gurgling sound coming from the floor grate just above his head. It was
faint, but it was getting louder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">“What the…” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">An opaque, greenish liquid pushed
against, and then through, the floor grate. It oozed out, moving across the
floor, towards Lars’s face. He tried to
squirm away, but the slime was picking up speed, moving closer and closer, its
intent obvious. It was coming for him. It could sense him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">He screamed, and the slime
leapt, covering his face, blocking and flooding his mouth. It stung his skin
and blocked his airways. It forced itself into him, down his throat, into his
belly. He could feel his insides melting, and the slime was expanding, taking
over him, taking over everything, taking, and… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">Then there was nothing. Lars
was gone. The slime was there now. The slime could use his body, and it would. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Garamond",serif; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Garamond;">It had a mission. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-87534207989736619462016-06-10T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-10T06:00:16.712-07:00Tentacle University 2: The Sorority pt. 17<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Stephen sat in the back of the
ambulance, a bandage around his head. His body felt bruised and battered, but
nothing felt broken. An officer was standing in front of him, questioning him,
but Stephen was only half paying attention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“So, why was everyone meeting?” The
officer had a pad in front of him, and was jotting down notes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Stephen did his best to recount the
story of the hacked GreekLife accounts, and all the info they had found out
when looking into who the hacker was. He was having a hard time focusing, and
he was sure he had left out some key details, but the officer got the gist of
it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“And you say that the president of
your frat was going to bring the materials to the cops? Why didn’t your Dean?”
The officer didn’t look up from his pad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I don’t know. The Dean didn’t seem
to thrilled about opening up that can of worms.” He rubbed his throbbing head. “Probably
wanted to avoid bad press. You know, keep it internal.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The officer asked, “And you and your
friends weren’t happy with that?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Stephen looked up at the officer. He
was older, with tan skin and a chubby face. Had to be around fifty, maybe
older. Close to retirement, and he really didn’t look like he wanted to be
there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Too bad, thought Stephen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Someone killed themselves because
of those photos. Someone tried to make it look like I had posted them. No, we
weren’t happy with it. We were pissed, and we were going to do something about
it, but then those goons showed up.” Stephen’s head let out a harsh throb. “Damn
it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Any idea who those goons were?” The
officer tucked his pad into his belt. “Would make things really easy.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He shook his head. “They wore masks.”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Of course they did.” The officer
sighed. “You said the fraternity president had those materials. The stuff with
the photos and all that. Think he would turn them over now?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Stephen pointed towards Willard. “Ask
him.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">-*- <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Willard could see the officer
walking towards him. His heart rate was climbing quickly. This was all getting
out of hand way too quickly, and he needed time to think. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Are you listening to me, you little
shit?” Dean Stanton growled through the cellphone pressed to Willard’s ears. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“We will finish this in person,
tomorrow.” Without another word, Willard hung up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He was going to get his ass wailed
on tomorrow, but he had no other choice. The cops couldn’t hear him talking to
Stanton. That would be bad. That would ruin all the plans that they had put
together. Who the hell had sent the goons? The two of them had worked everything
out. Willard would placate everyone, make it sound like something was getting
done, and then they would just wait for it all to blow over. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now… now he was backed into a
corner, and he did not like that. Dean Stanton, or as Willard preferred, Daddy,
didn’t like it either. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-17618069140601980312016-06-09T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-09T06:00:29.613-07:00Eye See You: Mother's Day pt. 6<div class="Normal1">
Richard lay on the bed, his chest and stomach ripped open.
Wires whipped around in the hollowed out cavity that had once been his torso. The
bed was soaked in blood and dark bits of his insides that had splattered out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
His face, though. His face was what really horrified me. His
eyes were open, his mouth slack, but still, somehow, he was smiling. He lay
there, a literal shell of a human being, and he was smiling. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
My scream finally caught in my throat, and I stumbled away
from the bed, my back crashing into the wall. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“What did you do?” I looked at Bea. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Bea stood in the doorway, her hand to her mouth. She was
making a ‘tsk tsk’ sound. “Ever since the upgrade he’s just been lying there
like a total log. I don’t think it took. Do you? I mean, I know he’s old, but
we both are, and I took mine just fine.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“Upgrade?” I inched farther away from her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“Of course, Loni!” She laughed, turning her full attention to
me. “Oh… you haven’t gone through installation yet. My dear, it isn’t that bad.
I promise you. Mine went just fine.” She pulled away her sweater, exposing her
white, wrinkled chest to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Her breasts hung low, and her nipples looked as if they had
rotted off. Purple veins seemed to spark
and glow along them, the rest of the flesh was an unhealthy greyish green. The
veins led towards the center of her chest, towards the small device that had
broken through her skin. Tiny hooks of metal and wires burrowed their way into
her flesh. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
It was her pace maker. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-53403724544714467682016-06-08T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-08T06:00:14.167-07:00Rituals pt. 23<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
A feeling I couldn’t describe
rushed through me, and I could feel my body growing hot. That voice in my head
was growing louder, calling to me, telling me not to worry. She said I should
trust her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I did trust her. I don’t know why,
but I did. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“It has been a while since I have
been joined to someone,” said Juktha. “It feels nice to find that special person
again.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I didn’t have to ask her who her
previous host was. I could see him in front of me. He was the one that Rita had
talked about. His name was… Bobby. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
“Dead, I’m afraid.” Juktha sighed,
her voice tinged with sadness. “And we will be, too. If we don’t deal with your
little snake problem.” <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9182242932777023965.post-4437174731790584202016-06-07T06:00:00.000-07:002016-06-07T06:00:18.156-07:00Eye See You: Mothers Day pt. 5<div class="Normal1">
I had been the first person Richard had talked to when he was
about to propose to Bea. I had been the one who had told him to go for it. I
thought he was perfect for her. I thought they were perfect together. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
He had looked so happy then. His eyes had lit up when I had
responded positively. He hugged me, and he thanked me, and he asked me to be
there when he did it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
“It would only be right,” he had said. “You’re like her
sister.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Bea and Richard. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
They had been the couple I had looked up to. They had been the
ones that had always been there at every family party, at every tragedy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Tragedy… <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<div class="Normal1">
Tragedy… <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Normal1">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="Normal1">
Oh god. <o:p></o:p></div>
B. Stringinihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00845321100629360560noreply@blogger.com0